Lorne, known to many as the Host, put the drinks on the table before
sitting down opposite Stephan.
"You know, I can't remember anyone ever doing Judas Priest in here
before." Stephan grinned slightly at this. "Manilow, Striesand, a little
Sid Vicious, sure but." he shook his head, running out of words.
"Should I keep my day job?" the visitor asked with mock seriousness.
"Funny you should mention that, I get the impression you should
definitely keep doing what you have been. I get the feeling you were.meant
to be here, but after that.." with that the demon shrugged.
"How illuminating. Next you'll tell me I have an old soul." Lorne
turned a gimlet eye on Stephan.
"Laugh all you want but there's a reason for you coming to LA. It's
just not clear why. Or who else might be involved. And let me tell you,
there are a lot of interesting people around here to get involved with. A
lot rests with the choices you make. Like most things in life" Stephan
mulled this over for a moment.
"I've been getting the feeling that someone, something has been
pointing me in this direction. I was hoping you could tell me who but if
you can't, can you at least tell me who these 'interesting' people are?"
"The top of the list would be Angel. He can be a little broody but
hey, aren't we all sometimes."
"Angel? Kind of angst ridden, dour?"
The Host's forehead crinkled against his horns in surprise. "You know him?"
"Vampire with a soul? Yeah, I meant him a while back. Well.isn't this
something. Where can I find him?"
Later. . .
The black BMW rolled to a stop before the front door to the Hyperion, the subdued whine of the engine fading into silence. Or at least as silent as LA ever got. The driver side door opened and Stephan stepped from his car. He was attired in a dark shirt and khakis, the grip of an automatic handgun protruding from a holster clipped to the waistband at the small of his back. Stephan reached back into the car and retrieved a long duster that he used to cover the fact he was armed. He checked his reflection in the Beemer's mirrored window. "Oh yes," he thought, "very Goth tonight." A smile lit his face as he once again considered whether or not he might be getting a little old for these adventures. "Nah." he murmured out loud.
Story is © 2002 by Vargas Delaney
Nothing in this work should be construed as a challenge to any copy written material or copy write holder.
Later. . .
The black BMW rolled to a stop before the front door to the Hyperion, the subdued whine of the engine fading into silence. Or at least as silent as LA ever got. The driver side door opened and Stephan stepped from his car. He was attired in a dark shirt and khakis, the grip of an automatic handgun protruding from a holster clipped to the waistband at the small of his back. Stephan reached back into the car and retrieved a long duster that he used to cover the fact he was armed. He checked his reflection in the Beemer's mirrored window. "Oh yes," he thought, "very Goth tonight." A smile lit his face as he once again considered whether or not he might be getting a little old for these adventures. "Nah." he murmured out loud.
Story is © 2002 by Vargas Delaney
Nothing in this work should be construed as a challenge to any copy written material or copy write holder.
